


A Good Way To Go

by roguerobes



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood scenes, Questionable Geography, drabble?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21692980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roguerobes/pseuds/roguerobes
Summary: When Alexios was twelve years old, he approached the village blacksmith with a very peculiar request.
Kudos: 21





	A Good Way To Go

When Alexios was 12 years of age—small, sunburnt, dressed in dusty tunics, and sporting a bald head—he approached the village blacksmith with a very peculiar request.

“I need a chisel.”

“Mm, a chisel?” Theophilus wiped his hands on a rag to meet his young customer. “What sort?”

“One that will create dents in stone.”

“Ah, so you want to become a sculptor,” Theophilus said, smiling broadly. He was a big, heavily scarred man. His eyes were lined with crow’s feet from squinting down at steel blades in hot, sheltered furnaces. But kind men also smiled plenty. “A would-be artist. Do you have a teacher?”

“No,” Alexios said. He shifted from foot to foot, then said, “I need it to climb the Lightning Zeus.”

Theophilus paused. “The Lightning Zeus.”

“Yes.”

“The statue atop Mount Ainos.”

“Yes, the only one.”

“The statue, that's fifty feet tall and made of marble,” Theophilus added. Alexios—small, wiry, and sunburnt—nodded. He couldn’t have been more than five feet at most.

Theophilus waited for further explanation.

“The chisel needs to be very sharp,” Alexios said, pinching his fingers as if to give example. “It should cut rock as soon as i touch it.”

Theophilus laughed. “There is no chisel like that in Greece. At least, not on Kephallonia.”

“But you make the best,” Alexios said.

“Do I,” Theophilus said, amused. “Then my words must be good measure. You cannot cut into marble with a single hit of a chisel, son. Especially if you want to climb it.”

“I’ve tried,” Alexios said earnestly. He followed Theophilus into the shop. “I’ve climbed up his leg and to his knee. But his—er, higher...”

Theophilus held in another laugh. “It's too high, isn't it? Perhaps you should wait until you are taller, Alexios?” He cleared the workbench so the boy had somewhere to sit. “Then you might be able to jump that distance. I hear you're quite the skilled climber.”

Alexios was eyeing the different tools with apprehension. Theophilus picked up a small chisel from a storage crate and held it up to Alexios. “Will this do?”

The boy was unconvinced. “It is small.”

“All things start out small.”

Alexios looked at his own hands, then shook his head at Theophilus. “It won’t do.”

“You really climbed up Zeus’s foot?” Theophilus asked, rummaging in a different crate.

“It’s not that hard. There are many grooves to use on the marble,” Alexios said. His hand curved unconsciously to mimic his movements.

“It doesn’t hurt you?” Theophilus glanced at the boy’s feet. His toes were red and raw. “Do you climb barefoot?”

“The sandals make my feet slip...”

“You’re a determined little thing, aren’t you? All right, here. Look at these.” Theophilus straightened up and held a bunch of his best chisels for Alexios to see. Smaller still, yet the sharpest in the shop. But the boy shook his head. “No? Perhaps you want a nail, and a hammer?”

“How will I climb with both my hands occupied?”

“Oh. Then I suppose you shouldn’t.”

Alexios’s face fell. "You're making fun of me."

Theophilus hid a smile. “See, Alexios,” he said, kneeling down in front of him. “The Lightning Zeus is a work of art. A spectacular, marvelous sculpture. A thing of beauty! You can't just make dents in a statue like that. It took years to make.”

“But there are so many dents in it already,” Alexios said, a touch guilty.

“That may be. It is still a gigantic statue that looks over all of Kephallonia. Imagine what the priestess would think if she knew you were scratching at Lightning Zeus. What would Zeus say?”

“Zeus does not care,” Alexios said stubbornly. It surprised Theophilus. The boy was hardly the age at when youngsters began to question the gods. It might have provoked a scolding from a parent.

(He knew Alexios had no parents to speak of. Markos was a poor substitute. A loan shark to everyone on the islands, and it would be less hilarious if Markos could actually pay his own debts in time.)

“At least respect the sculptor then, Alexios,” Theophilus said soothingly. “I’m sure he wouldn't mind as long as you weren't breaking stone. Don’t you think so?”

Alexios grumbled.

“Yes, I think so too. But i will make this worth your time.” Theophilus picked up a broad, slender blade that he’d bought off a seller. “See this? It’s strong, good material. I’ll give it a hilt and handguard, and you can practice with Andy behind the forge, he’ll teach you how to use it.”

“I know how to us a sword,” Alexios said, taking the steel from him and weighing it in his own hands. He gripped the lower end and held it up for balance.

"It's a good blade," Theophilus said, watching Alexios closely. “Lightweight, sturdy. Broad, which means it’s better than half the needles Markos is always buying. You can even practise some blocking.”

"It's blunt."

"I'll have it sharpened, of course." Theophilus grinned. “But what do you think?”

Alexios tilted the blade to each side. His expression changed to one of concentration. It was clear that he quite liked the would-be sword—and to Theophilus's surprise, the boy was using fighter’s stance. He was bent slightly at the knees, feet apart, leveraging the weight of the sword with his shoulder. Perhaps the boy did know a thing or two. "How much will it cost?" he asked.

"Fifteen drachmae. Don't worry," he said at Alexios's anguish. "It will take me time to make. You can collect some coin until then, can't you?"

"I could..."

"If you add five drachmae I'll even get a scabbard and belt made for it."

"Couldn't you just give me the chisel instead?" Alexios pleaded.

"There will be no further corrections to the Lightning Zeus," Theophilus said firmly, herding him out of the forge. "One day you will be tall enough to jump that height. But not now. Give it time.”

Alexios looked morose. "Will I at least get the sword?"

“I'll see to it,” Theophilus said. “You run along now. Go collect your coin.”

Alexios sighed and moped away towards the village square. The midday sun was blinding. Theophilus shielded his eyes and looked towards Mount Ainos.

Zeus knelt over the hill, huge and intimidating, with the thunderbolt raised in one hand as though he was going to split open the very sea. The marble glowed in the sunlight—from that distance it seemed as though the ephemeral apparition of a god truly was crouched over his subjects. There was no reason for Zeus to scowl that way. Kephallonia was perhaps economically forsaken, yet gorgeous in its beauty and blessed with kind folk. The sort that still left tribute at the foot of the statue before the rains so their crops might be spared from lightning.

Theophilus was not very sure that this had worked. Zeus remained as cold and impassive as ever. Possibly even spiteful.

The boy had already disappeared. Good on him to try and climb the statue, Theophilus thought fondly. But he would have to warn Markos that his ward was off carrying potentially fatal missions for fun. He set off towards the village.

******

The setting sun sparkled across the Ionian sea, lighting up the whole sky with a shade of yellow like that of a ripe fruit. The forests were tinged golden and the mud houses caught little of that light, sitting darkly in the farmland. The sea breeze was cool and carried the smell of fires burning at the temple of Kephalos, where the priests would be performing the day’s final rituals.

“Oi. There he is. Hey!”

Alexios ignored the shout.

“Boy!” The sounds of a pair of sandals scuffing stone. “Oh dear. I’m not young enough for this. Alexios!”

He looked down from the fold of Zeus’s knee. “Hello, Markos.”

Markos was a man almost thirty, a growing paunch and curly hair framing his amiable face. When Alexios washed ashore on Kephallonia on the night of a powerful thunderstorm, no one knew where he came from. Few would consider taking in a foreigner like that. It was lucky that Markos had always been bit of a drunkard. He had found Alexios on the beach and offered him a deal—a place at his hearth and food for the nights if Alexios ran his errands.

Markos was already panting from his walk up the hill. Alexios was on the Zeus knee closest to the ground, which was not very high up, but it was still taller than Markos was. It was satisfying to see the man crane his head up for once.

“Alexios, if you were bored and needed work, you could have come to me. Aren't you worried about falling off and dying?”

“I was just thinking. Markos, you don’t pay me enough.”

“What!” Markos said, affronted. “You have enough to eat and drink, and buy tunics, what more could you possibly want?”

“I want to buy a sword, Markos.”

“So you want to join the army?”

“No,” Alexios said. “I want to be able to fight for myself.”

“Aha. Of course, our young _misthios_. But what’s wrong with the one you have?”

Alexios started. His mother’s spear was probably the best weapon on Kephallonia. Thick, sharp, and had a satisfying swing. But it was hidden in a crate in the hut, underneath his spare tunics. It was too important to him. “It’s not a sword. Besides, I can’t carry that around just anywhere.”

“Hmm." Markos paused. “Is that it? You want a sword? You could have told me this without climbing all over Zeus like a monkey. Alexios, if you work extra, I’ll pay you extra.” Another pause. “What? That’s not good enough?”

“I already do all the work,” Alexios said.

“You do the fetching, and i do the talking. Is this not a fair division of labour? I rather think we have a good relationship here.”

Alexios sent him an unimpressed glare. Markos relented. “All right, all right. I’ll pay you what you want. Now will you get down here?”

“I want half of what we get, or I’m going to climb this leg,” Alexios announced.

“You do that," Markos said. "It'd be a good way to go.” Alexios stood up. “By Hermes, I didn't mean that. What are you doing! Get down!”

“Promise first.”

“Promise what?” Alexios reached his hands upwards and prepared to jump. “NO! Don’t! All right, I’ll split it in half, I promise! Now get down from there, Alexios, come on. Let’s go now.”

“What's the hurry?” Alexios asked. “Its not dusk yet.”

“We must go to Sami tomorrow,” Markos said. “New wares have arrived from the islands. But we must reach it before the others if we want the good stuff, and I need to make a good bargain. We will leave at daybreak.” Markos turned to leave, his mind already onto the next issue at hand. He waved. “Come! I must find a horse or two...”

Alexios watched the older man walk off with bemusement.

Already Kephallonia was cast in shadow. They would have lit up the braziers at the village by now. Alexios couldn’t see much, now that the sun had set and he was standing on the backfoot. But from atop Zeus’s thunderbolt he would have a birds eye view. It would be glorious, he thought, hugging the marble.

Sometimes he dreamed of it. Wind on his face like he was flying; the precarious gap, the small sliver of difference between balancing and falling. He was always leaping off roofs and trees in his odd work for a drachmae or two. But standing on Zeus’s lightning bolt would be a much bigger feat. He would see all of Kephallonia and Ithaka, the rolling hills, maybe even the ends of the Ionian sea. He would be taller than Zeus, then. He'd be the tallest being in all of Greece.

He felt a little miserable thinking about it. A pale wisp of a dream, now that he couldn’t even buy himself a chisel. From somewhere far off, he heard the call of an eagle, clear and insistent.

Oh well. Markos would be looking for him. Alexios slid down Zeus’s tall shins, pulled on his sandals, and set off down Mount Ainos towards the world below.

**Author's Note:**

> I took liberties with Ikaros thing—Alexios does not know that the sense sharing exists


End file.
